Monster
by chairomori
Summary: Chapter Two: Trapped within Veda, it's hard for Tieria to hold onto humanity.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Gundam 00's not mine, not making a profit on it either.

A/N: I was _really_ frustrated and angry last night, so I decided to be productive and channel it into words. One thing led to another, and well, here you have it. The change in tense is intentional, as are grammatical errors (hopefully). Hope you don't think I'm nuts after this...

. . . . . . .

_Monster_

by Chairo Mori

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Hate.

He was brimming in it. It was the very blood that ran through his body. It _was_ him.

His fist trembled from uncontrolled rage.

The mirror in front of him glowered, a face distorted and twisted into an ugly montage of clenched teeth, slitted eyes, nose skewed with anger, nostrils flaring, like a raging bull.

He hated what he saw. _Hated _it.

The neat, violet hair, falling _perfectly_ straight. _Perfect_ fair skin. A _perfect_ body for an _Innovator_.

How he _hated_ them all. Ribbons, Regene, _all of them._

He _wasn't_ an Innovator. Say what they would, he _wasn't. _God damn them, he was a _human being._

His nails drew tight against his palm, and he reveled in the pricks of brief pain as he maliciously toyed with the idea of using the action to cut open his skin.

His lips curved upward into a cruel snarl of a grin. Ah! Yes. _Innovator_ indeed. Would such a _superior_ being as an _Innovator_ ever even _think_ of committing such a _human_ action as self-inflicted harm? Would an _Innovator_ ever lose control?

He flicked his gaze towards the shaking fist, oh how he _reveled_ in the idea of taking it and _smashing _the damn mirror into smithereens. Let's see it mock him _then!_

Oh how _good_ it would feel, having the fragments of glass shatter and bury into his knuckles, to see the crimson sputter from it, relieve the tightness of his angry muscles with pain. Glorifying pain!

Yes!

And to pull and rack off that neat head of hair, lock after lock, until nothing but a horrible mess unsuited for a _demon _remained.

Then his glass-adorned hand would make its way to that disgusting face – it reminded him so much of _Regene_ – and scratch and tear at it until he was _unrecognizable_.

He panted in delirious ecstasy as he glared at the shattered remains of the mirror, a kaleidoscope of a monster glaring back in return, crimson flowing down its face in streams, wild chunks of violet hair hanging from its ugly head.

He loved it! He _loved_ it!

This, this _creature!_ How could it dare to even call itself _human_, let alone_ above_ human? No. No! This monster panting and snarling at him wasn't _fit _to be called human!

Its face twisted to reflect his glee. A hoarse laughter managed to rasp its way out of his throat.

"Tieria?"

The illusion shatters.

"Hey, what's so funny in there?"

The mirror stares back, unscathed. He schools his lips back into their neutral line. "Nothing, Allelujah."

His face is still there.

"Right... Well, Sumeragi wants us all at the bridge for briefing."

"I'll be right there," he feels himself reply and hears Allelujah shuffle away from the door.

His gaze returns to the mirror and notes the tears that are trickling down.

His fists are still clenched, his body still trembles. But this time, as he leans his head forward and rests it against the mirror, it is not in anger.

_Lockon._

He grimaces and stifles the sob that yearns to escape from his silent suffering.

_Lockon._

No matter how much he hates it. _Despises_ what he is, there is no denying it.

He closes his eyes.

He is an Innovator.

_Lockon!_

Compassion. Vengeance. Anger. Grief. Deep down he knows he is deluding himself. In the end, he is an Innovator. He is not human.

Eyes still closed, he calmly composes himself. When he opens them and leaves his room, it is as if nothing happened.

The mirror continues to reflect the emptiness.

Lockon.

Lockon.

Lockon.

You really were blind. Because you believed there was humanity in me.

. . . . . . . .


	2. Chapter 2

Lonely...

It's so lonely here, the only soul in a spacecraft meant for a colony. The only soul... Do Innovades have souls? ...Do _I _have a soul?... I would like... to think that I _did_ have a soul... When I was still Tieria Erde... and not a part of Veda. But do I have one now? I... no, I... maybe...

Maybe these feelings I have, maybe this longing means that I_ do_ have one. That my humanity is still intact. Is still safe. I don't want to forget. It frightens me, the thought that here, in this solitude with no one to save me, I might revert back to who I was. Before the Ptolemaios. Before Lockon.

I don't regret my actions. I don't regret "death" and becoming one with Veda. It was because of this that I was able to help them... the crew of the Ptolemaios... my family. By remaining here, I can continue to watch over them, protect them... with Veda. But still...

I feel so _alone_.

I miss the blessings that came with being _alive_. I miss my family. Mileina's innocence that brightened the walls of the ship. The strength of Setsuna's silent presence and the gentleness of Allelujah, their determination. I even miss Haro's annoying chirps and echoes. Here, there is no bustling of life, there is no flurry of words or emotions. There is only the soft thrumming of Veda. The murmuring of its vibrations as it calculates one plan after another. And beyond that, there is only the vast silence of space.

They were more than benefits. The ability to breathe in the crispness of air. To touch, to feel the smoothness of the clothes that wrapped around my body, the warmth of the living. They were life itself. My existence here, is neither life nor death. It is an in-between. I am here, I am everywhere Veda is, yet I am nowhere. I cannot touch, I cannot feel. I am but an essence that thinks. A ghost of someone who once lived. Tieria Erde is dead. I am his memories... I am his will. And thus, I am what he was, what he became.

So am I... do I... can I say that I have a soul? Are these memories, is this pining for life enough to prove that _I am still here_. That his soul, _my soul,_ is still here?

Maybe I don't want to know. I'm afraid to know. Because what if, I am really just a stream of encryptions, and all of these thoughts, these fears I have, what if they are just a recreation, a superficial copy of what I once experienced when he- when I was alive. When I had a soul... What if _I_ am just a musing of Veda's, as it struggles to comprehend this foreign data received from linking with Tieria Erde. Veda is powerful. Veda is omniscient. But Veda... is not human. Veda does not understand soul. It does not understand life. It takes humanity, my humanity, and breaks it down into numbers and algorithms.

Veda... I am certain it is well within Veda's capabilities... to lock me away in quarantine, or to delete me once it has no further use for my knowledge. As a human, I was imperfect. Now, to Veda, I must be a virus, or a bug, that threatens to disrupt its perfection. It does not care if the soul of Tieria Erde exists within me... or if I _am_ his soul. It cares only for the plan. For Aeolia Schenburg and his will. I, who care not for the plan but for the safety of those precious to me, must be an error that threatens to mar that plan.

It is almost as if, with every second ticking away, I can feel a part of myself disappear, replaced with the mentality of a piece of software. I fear that as time passes on, my humanity will slowly be overwritten by Veda's systems. I will become Veda, and my too-brief years as a human will be nothing more than a distant piece of unused data, buried beneath unneeded files, folder after folder, hidden in a place so obscure I will no longer remember where it is or how to find it. My days as a meister will become nothing but a distant dream.

Setsuna, who is Setsuna? Oh, yes, Setsuna is_– Codename Setsuna F. Seiei. Born Soran Ibrahim. Place of Birth the former Republic of Krugis. Gundam Meister of Celestial Being..._ No, he's more than that. Setsuna was my comrade. Setsuna is– _Former pilot of Gundam Exia. Current pilot of 00 Gundam._

_Codename Lockon Stratos. Born Neil Dy-_ NO! Lockon. Not Lockon. I don't want to forget him. The one who gave me my soul and made me human.

. . . . . . . . .

I... do not want to think about this anymore... because I know that Veda is just a system. Veda cannot delete me. Only I can erase myself, my humanity. Only the anguish of silence and loneliness can weather it away. Only I can choose to forget. Because it hurts to be human and to be alone. Because it is easier to cope if I do not feel. If I am like Veda. If I am not human.

It is too painful... but still I cannot help but to think about an endless future. A future where I will be forced to watch as one by one everyone I knew and loved will age and die while I "live" on. And then, there will be no one left to protect. Only the nameless, the faceless. And this will stretch on forever, into the unfathomable darkness of time.

Maybe, I should sleep. Sleep will stave off the cleansing. In sleep, I will not have to be aware. There will be no need to pass the time with these demoralizing postulations. I will not be conscious to imagine such a desolate future. Sleep, until I am needed again, until I can once again interact with humanity.

But when will that day be? How many generations will pass? Will Setsuna still be alive? Will Allelujah? And Mileina? Feldt? Lasse? Lyle? Will I wake up one day, in the far future, and be utterly alone, more so than now? I feel as if I am immersed in an icy abyss. It feeds on my despair, expanding, colder, colder, engulfing my essence, my soul. I can almost feel myself shrivel as the frost wraps its tendrils around me.

Lonely, so _lonely_.

_Where are you, Lockon? I... I don't ... I don't want to be alone. Where are you? Let me go... to where you are. I don't... I don't want to be here. Not anymore._

Where are you? Wherever you are, is it a place like this? Where you can feel nothing, but the cracks that slowly spread around your humanity, pieces of yourself falling prey to the heartless abyss? Where it becomes difficult to separate reality from illusion and the mind becomes a faint, hazy blur? Or is it someplace warm and comforting. Where you are reunited with your family. Where you are finally at peace with yourself.

I want to be there.

I want to feel my eyes burn and sting, the wetness on my cheeks. If only I could... The comfort of tears. At least, if I could, wouldn't that mean some part of me remains? I try to… I command this hologram I have created to weep… But there is nothing to feel. Machines cannot feel. Data cannot feel. There is only the icy, numbness of Veda. There is only the yearning for the phantom warmth that used to be.

_I don't... want to feel this emptiness anymore. Let me... rest. I'm so tired... _

I did have a soul. But if it still exists within me now, it must be slipping away, the longer I remain in the solitude of Veda. What if, I forget why I am here? I become nothing more than Veda. I lose my humanity. I am replaced with the cold machine that cares only for the plan… What if… what if… what if…….

But I don't want to think anymore. Let me rest. Let me sleep. Yes, sleep… Sleep…

…_so tired... of this... of here... let me… sleep…_

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...Review?


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